Champion
by WildlingKnight
Summary: He'll see her again. Of that he's certain. He has so much to tell her. He will yell and scream and pitch a fit to make up for all of his stupid, foolish silences. He didn't say anything the entire time and he thinks it's the stupidest thing he ever did or didn't do


He'll see her again.

Of that he's certain. He has so much to tell her. He will yell and scream and pitch a fit to make up for all of his stupid, foolish silences. He didn't say anything the entire time and he thinks it's the stupidest thing he ever did or didn't do. Although she didn't say anything either he thinks as he runs through Hyrule field. The stars littering the indigo above and his hood keeping the choppy hair about his face out of his way as he makes his way determinedly forward.

For all of her words, none of them were the words they needed. If she had sighed them, if he had grit them out, would it have turned out differently? Would he still have had to die? If they'd just admitted the way they felt about each other, if they hadn't let others- her father, _his_ father, the other soldiers, everyone- stop them, if they had just stopped worrying, maybe they wouldn't have been so violently torn apart. He wouldn't have had to learn her all over again, and not even all of her, just glimpses. She might have had her powers. They might have won the first time around.

Of all the mistakes they had made, that was the most maddening. It thumped against his skull, scraped and thudded every moment, pounded in a rhythm that didn't feel entirely his own. It could be sleep deprivation he thinks as his footsteps turn from the crunch of dirt to thump of wood over water and he struggles to remember the last time he actually slept. It fills all of the gaps his previous life doesn't, all of the things he should have remembered but hasn't.

He sees the skywatcher and barely dodges its spotlight, going just wide enough to pass unnoticed instead of hiding all together. Let it see me, he thinks. He could do with a fight to drown out the pounding for another few moments. She would call him mad and the thought makes the corners of his mouth lift enough to bare teeth. He doesn't have the time for strategy, for a warriors patience. He's already used up the time he has and then some.

He spends his days in a half delirium. From lack of sleep or hunger he doesn't remember, days blur together and he can never remember when the last time he actually did anything was, his grumbling stomach mistaken for the growls of monsters and the few seconds his eyes almost close as he threatens to pitch head first to the ground taken for full rest. The only real passage of time he registers is the burning red skies and sulphuric winds, malicious motes and choking black gas.

There are things he thinks he sees in moments between dreaming and waking (when he does in fact sleep, though it's less like sleeping and more like collapsing) that he's not sure he really saw at all when fully awake. Memories that may not be memories he regained at all, but just the memories of dreams he's had. A girl with hair and smile like the sun, a blue and white flower, fire and impossible light harder than granite tearing through stone in lines.

 _You're mad_ she'd say and he'd laugh like she was right.

Champions they called them. Heroes. Saviours. Starting with awe, then becoming almost like a slur. They were believed in once. When the calamity was an 'eventually' and not a 'back then'. Then they became their titles, uttered with either reverence or derision. Some great long lesson to be learned from.

 _Champion._

He hears them begin to refer to him as such again, but not with disdain, not with the pity and shame that came with failure, but with hope again. He was making a difference, however small. They were believing again.

He knows he has to face the worst of it again. He has everything he needs now, his strength returned, the sacred weapon on his back, the knowledge of what will happen should he fail again. There will be no more chances after this one.

And her. He would have to see her again. He _wants_ to see her again. The Princess. Zelda. His friend. The best friend he's ever had.

If I can live through this, he thinks to himself as he sprints toward the eyesore that was once Hyrule Castle, toward the evil and fear and second chances swirled into a heaving mass.

If I can live through this, he thinks as his hand snaps up to the grip of the sword that seals the darkness, squeezing and reassuring himself that it's there and reassuring the voice inside that's he's ready.

If I can live through this, he thinks, I can do anything.

* * *

Enjoy :)

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